


The Biggest Mistake

by Lionessinthedark



Category: Sherlock (TV), Sherlock BBC
Genre: BAMF John Watson, Developing Relationship, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Episode Fix-It: s03e03 His Last Vow, Johnlock - Freeform, M/M, Mentions of Injuries, Post-His Last Vow, Sex (but not much), Sherlock goes to Eastern Europe
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-08-23
Updated: 2015-08-23
Packaged: 2018-04-16 21:18:32
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, Major Character Death
Chapters: 15
Words: 20,922
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4640562
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Lionessinthedark/pseuds/Lionessinthedark
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>John struggles to find his way through the turmoil of his life....Mary, the baby...and Sherlock.....and where does Moriarty's return fit into that picture?</p><p>And of course I do not own the characters.....they belong to Arthur Conan Doyle......and BBC</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter one

**Author's Note:**

> Thank God I have never had any family members or friends in a hospital because of traffic accidents. So if there are medical inaccuracies that is the explanation. Neither am I a nurse nor a doctor. And I do not know much about military or Afghanistan either.  
> I’m not a native speaker in English so there might be failures.  
> It is not a part of the other series I’ve written, so Sherlock’s and John’s back-ground stories are more canonically.  
> I’ve followed...mostly...the timeline on http://bakerstreet.wikia.com.

Takes place immediately after “His Last Vow” still on the 12th of January 2015.

 

 

When they were going to leave the tarmac at the airstrip after the aeroplane had landed and Sherlock had been hushed into the back of Mycroft’s car, Mycroft came over to where John and Mary were standing close to their hired car.

“You’ll have to understand, John” said Mycroft and actually looking apologizing: “It was either this....exile.....or many years in prison for Sherlock. Now the nation needs him...I need him. But it doesn’t change the outcome in the end, I’m afraid. You can in no way be in contact with Sherlock. I’ll hope you’ll understand!”

John looked at Mycroft and since he wasn’t stupid at all, he suddenly realized: “He would never have returned!”

Mycroft looked at him with sadness in his eyes: “No....the probability would have been small. But my brother is one of my best agents, and I’ve been wrong before, so we’ll never know. Right now he is dearly needed here in England. But afterwards? Even I do not possess so much power that I can prevent my brother from either imprisonment for several years or dangerous jobs abroad...That he had shot Magnussen in plain sight have sort of cost him his life, so to speak!”

“I see” said John with a grim expression on his face: “and your superiors will insist on sending him away on one dangerous mission after another until he fails...right?! Despite everything Sherlock has done in the past to save lives?!”

Mycroft just nodded and then he said: “I had stopped early regarding you a goldfish, John....”.and then he turned around and walked away towards his car.

John shouted after him: “At least you could tell me from time to time, if Sherlock still is alive?”

Mycroft turned around: “And what would be the point? You have chosen. Live with that choice!”

  
________________________

 

When John and Mary had returned to their flat and Mary got a moment of her own, she looked at the note Sherlock had put in her pocket as he gave her a farewell hug. She had instantly understood why Sherlock had shot Magnussen as soon as she had woken up from her drugging in Sherlock’s parents house. She just hoped that her love for John would be just as big as Sherlock just had shown that his was......risking imprisonment for several years just to protect her...and thus making John happy.

The note said:  
_“Dear Mary_  
_You are dear to me, because you are dear to John. As you might have figured out, I’m not coming back. Ever. Mycroft estimates that I’ll survive 6 months and he is seldom wrong. My own estimate is about 4 months. But I’d rather die “in action” than wear out several years in prison. I knew what I did at Magnussen’s house. I made a vow at your wedding and I intended to keep it. I knew the consequences. I knew what I did sacrifice. Don’t doubt that. But I’m asking of you...please don’t let my sacrifices be in vain. Stay with John; be faithful towards him and one more thing. Despite John being a crack-shot and the bravest man, I’ve ever met, he doesn’t know the depth of evilness in this world...so please Mary...protect him, yourself and your baby...and the rest of the children to come. I’m sad that I’ll never be able to see them. Of course you have figured out why I’ve been willing to sacrifice so much for John and why you can’t show him this letter ever or even tell him. I love him deeply and for his sake I hope that you love him with just a fraction of my love because in that case you will never hurt him in any way. It is just because I’m such an idiot and not being skilled in areas regarding other people’s feelings, that I, believe me, involuntarily, have hurt him so many times. Appreciate what you have got. He is a diamante, a gem-stone and the most handsome man and soul I ever met. He loves you deeply and it is shown because he has chosen you. And I’ll have to respect that. I respect his choice. I can never totally meet John’s needs. He is not gay....had never shown that kind of interest towards men. Even if he had a crush on Sholto. But it never was fulfilled despite of what you might have thought that you saw at your wedding. And believe me...your remark there indicated that you might have thought that John and I had had something together. I can tell you on the threshold of death that we have never even kissed! Not that I haven’t been interested but I’m not what John needs. I’m not a woman and I can’t bear a child and I’m most of the time an insufferable git as he had told me a lot of times. So goodbye Mary and take care._  
 _Yours Sherlock Holmes”_

Mary was happy that she had chosen a time where John was out to read the note.

“Oh..Sherlock” she said with her hand to her mouth and tears in her eyes. She had to admit that she had had some not so nice thoughts of triumph when Sherlock had disappeared in that plane. Being gone he couldn’t be a threat towards her life with John any more. And yes...she had had a suspicion that they had had a relationship before Sherlock had to jump. But that Sherlock’s love had been so deep that he had been prepared to sacrifice his own life and happiness just to make John happy.....Mary wasn’t sure that she could have been so self-sacrificing that she could have taken a step back away from John to ensure his happiness and let him live with Sherlock, yes even marry him...not to say that she wouldn’t have been able to help with a wedding if things had been reversed. And it was first at the wedding that she realized that Sherlock indeed loved John. The whole first man speech had been a declaration of love towards John.

Mary made a decision. She would not tell John about Sherlock’s confession in his letter, since Sherlock had written it suspecting that he would be dead in less than half a year, but she would have to tell John a bit more from her past. And how would Sherlock react when he suddenly found himself in London again....and very much alive? But not now.....she couldn’t risk John leaving her. Not with Sherlock in London. She would tell John after the baby was born... maybe.

And like that their lives continued their wobbling courses, like ships without compasses. Sherlock extremely busy trying to find out whom had made those pictures of Moriarty appear and what they meant and John trying to make his life with Mary functioning.


	2. Chapter 2

Around the 20th of February Sherlock had solved the mystery about Moriarty.   
It turned out that JIM Moriarty had indeed been Richard Brook in the broad daylight and in the darkness of the nights a very useful colleague to his brother JAMES Moriarty, who in reality had been the brain behind all the crimes. The “world’s first consulting criminal” had been those two brothers working together, but just as things were for Sherlock and Mycroft, the eldest had been very content with his role in the background and then his little brother could do all the legwork. So James had been behind everything, like a spider in her web.....and as Jim got totally obsessed with Sherlock and increasingly mentally unstable, James had begun to move himself further and further away from the criminal web. And even before Jim had started his hostage/bombing-plan, a car crash had left James handicapped: almost blind and in a wheelchair. James had now no intention of 1) being discovered and 2) re-entering in the criminal world. 

Things had got out of hand as Jim had taken more and more power after the car-crash. Sherlock had decided after having met James that he had no intention of altering James’ decisions. James proved no longer a threat to society.....being almost blind and sitting in a wheelchair and had only done the “thinking and planning”-part of Jim’s crimes and first too late had James found out what Jim had done with James’ mental puzzles. Sherlock could easily see himself in James’ wheelchair and being thrilled by the mere challenge without thinking of the consequences. But who had then put up the pictures and hacked all the networks and broadcasts. Practically every screen in the UK?

It was apparently a dead end and since nothing more happened, Mycroft couldn’t postpone Sherlock’s exile and Sherlock left England with destination Eastern Europe on the 28th of February. This time John hadn’t been allowed to say goodbye and it was only through Greg Lestrade that John learned that Sherlock had left. He had sent a very angry SMS to Mycroft, but had again got that answer back that he was no longer a part of Sherlock’s life and that he had chosen that himself! John had answered back that his marriage didn’t alter that Sherlock was still his best friend. But he never got an answer back on that remark. Greg had told him that Sherlock was in Eastern Europe – Bulgaria –and that Sherlock made fine progresses and..... most important.... was still alive.  
___________________________  
And then in April, almost 2 months after Sherlock had left, the baby was born. A little bit too early. The 2nd of April. A 3000 grams, 49 cm long little miracle. John cried as he saw her, only 10 minutes old, for the first time. Those eyes.....they looked as if the soul behind it was aeons old.....and in reality it was probably because she couldn’t focus at all! And she was a “Sherlock”....with tiny little ginger curls already. He only wished that Sherlock could have seen her. 

He had looked at Mary and said “Ginger!?” and she had smiled and said: “Not unusually when a blonde and a brunette make children” and he had smiled at her and said: “I think that you should stop bleaching your hair, then. I like “brunette” better. Your blonde hair deceives no one. A different haircut is a better disguise!”  
__________________  
John tried to invite Mycroft to the christening..... and of course Sherlock. But he was politely told that Sherlock was working in Eastern Europe and in no way could be contacted and Mycroft was unfortunately to busy ruling the world....the last sentence said with a tiny smile in his voice. John had thought that Mycroft had been pissed off on him, but the gift for “Joanna Wilhelmina Watson” from Mycroft and Sherlock showed otherwise: a full payment for her education from the age of 5 till 30 in whatever she would want to educate herself in.  
Just after Mina’s christening Mary had contacted Mycroft and asked him to turn up at their flat. And when the black car was outside, she had asked Mycroft if the car was bug-safe and he had just looked at her. She got in and there she told Mycroft...even if their mutual animosity, despite the very fine gift at Mina’s christening , was almost palpable, that she had been hired by Jim Moriarty.....but that she had had a suspicion that he was much too unstable mentally to be the mastermind behind the criminal network and even if it had appeared to be ended by Sherlock’s actions more than four years ago, she thought that the real mastermind just had grown tired of the whole thing and had been on hiatus, until now.....  
Mycroft had thanked her politely for her information...very politely... and said that he would have liked to have had that information a bit sooner...and then she left the car and watched it drive away. What Mary had thought to be something new to Mycroft, Sherlock had already found out before he had been forced to leave England.  
________________________  
“We’ll need to talk, John” she said when he came home from the clinic one day later in May, a few days after Mycroft’s visit.

“Hm” he said: “It sounds grave...Something a wife says when her husband is in trouble”

She smiled: “No it is not that bad....or at least not from your side. It is something I have to tell you. Even if I’ve found it difficult to tell you before...”

“Ok...continue...”

“You know why Sherlock had to jump of that roof?”

“Yeah....I learned that later....after he returned, that Moriarty had put snipers on me, Lestrade and Mrs. Hudson.”

Mary took a deep breath: “You wouldn’t have been shot, John!”

“But Sherlock told me.....”

“Yeah...and I do not know about Lestrade and Mrs. Hudson, but.....”

John looked at Mary with a sudden understanding: “You were my sniper!”

She smiled a little sad smile: “And now you are going to hate me. But believe me. When I found out how insane Moriarty was and that the people he wanted shot was an elderly woman, a hardworking police inspector and a doctor....well I decided that I’d rather shoot the one who hired me. Strangely enough he shot himself before I could do it. I’ve always wondered what Sherlock said to Jim, that made him shoot himself........and I have followed you for such a long time on Jim’s order.....and I couldn’t help but falling in love with you John. I’m sorry that I have lied about a lot of things. But I never lied about my love for you!”

John just looked at her: “And I know I said that “The problems of your future are my privilege”....but I still have to understand and try to forgive that you shot Sherlock. Maybe I’m an idiot....but I do not fully understand how and why he could forgive you! And I’ll have to be honest here to, Mary.......if he had said anything about him not forgiving you for almost killing him....because that was what you did in my eyes......then I would have left you....and the child. And talking about honesty....and you are probably going to be angry as hell at me now. Is Mina mine?”

“She is.....of course she is. Just look at her. I’ll never lie to you about such a thing. I love you, John! But I’ll understand if you find it difficult to live together with me........But believe me. If I had wanted Sherlock dead, he would have died!”

“He did die, Mary.....he flat lined twice......in the ambulance and in the operating theatre! It was a bloody miracle that he survived! He had lost too much blood!”

“Why bring this up now, John? Did he tell you? You said that you had forgiven me?”

“It was before I got my hands on Sherlock’s true medical journal......Not the official “Mycroft”-one!”

“Oh..... Believe me. I was cornered and had to find a way out. I could not kill Sherlock......you would never have forgiven me. But I had to make it look like I had tried to.....Oh John. I didn’t know I came so close to kill him. I avoided his heart, his lungs and his spleen and his intestines. Either that would have killed him instantly or later. Of course you know that if you shoot people in the area between and above the liver, you do not hit vital organs....you even avoid the kidney. But I must have ruptured the inferior vena cava....since Sherlock almost bled to death. I’m truly sorry John, but it was the only option I had.”

“I still don’t get it!”

“I had to....Magnussen had hired me to end Sherlock and had threatened me to do so. Black-mailed me. I showed up in his office and threatened him to stop black-mailing me. I wanted to show him that I could kill him any moment if he didn’t back off. And then Sherlock turned up in the worst possible moment. If I hadn’t apparently tried to end Sherlock there, Magnussen would have told my enemies about me......I’m sorry John. I shot Sherlock....but I never intended to fulfil my contract and kill him!”

“Do you have any proof that Magnussen hired you?!”

“Why?.........oh I see.....If Sherlock had known when you went to Appledore, then he could claim that shooting Magnussen was self-defence!”

“Exactly....so do you have the proof?“

“Somewhere......I’ll try to find it. That is at least what I can do for Sherlock! But I have to know. Is there still a future for us together? I love you....you must know that....but can you love me?”

And the very honest man....John Watson....who never had told a lie in his life....had to say: “I do not *love* you Mary. I can’t. I’m really working on trying to forgive you. But you almost killed my best friend! I *like* you....I respect you....and there are even parts of you that I might think that I *love*. But you are the mother of our child. She is the best thing that ever happened to me and therefore I can promise you that I’ll never voluntarily leave you. Can you live with that? I have to be honest. I don’t want any more lies in our marriage!”

Mary smiled at him: “That is one of the things that I love most about you, John. Your honesty. And yes I can live with that. Marriages are sometimes built on lesser ground.”


	3. Chapter 3

Greg, who still was in contact with Sherlock, told John in the middle of June that Sherlock was in a hospital in Berlin. He had been shot. But only in his thigh. It wasn’t life-threatening, but it secured Sherlock a stay in a hospital for at least 14 days if not more and then a sick-leave in his flat in Berlin for more than 2 months. John’s only thought was: “Thank God.....he would be safe for at least 2 months. “They” can’t ask him to do life-threatening jobs in Eastern Europe now!”

And then John decided that he would visit Sherlock in Berlin despite all Mycroft’s warnings. Mary told John that he of course should visit Sherlock and she promised to make an extra effort to find the proof of Magnussen’s price on Sherlock’s head and she gave John a book that he should bring as a gift. She thought Sherlock would appreciate that, being immobilised in a hospital-bed.

John had packed a few necessities and in the middle of the night he entered the train that in 10 hours would bring him to Berlin. He just wondered how Sherlock would react.  
__________________________   
John was sitting in the train from Berlin to London via Calais. He was tired. His visit to the hospital, where Sherlock had been hospitalized, had been all right at first and seeing that Sherlock’s wound in his left thigh wasn’t that bad but only a soft tissue wound and Sherlock would be able to walk and run again, had been a relief. But after the first “Thank God you are alive” his continued conversation with Sherlock had not been nice. 

Sherlock had first asked what John was doing in Berlin and why first now? And when John had said something about “making sure that his best friend was still alive and Mycroft had forbidden him to contact Sherlock and it had been Greg who had told about Sherlock’s injury”.... Sherlock had told him to leave and to stay away. That he couldn’t work if John kept on “popping in and out of his life”. Had told him “that he would have to live with and accept the choice he had made, just like Sherlock had “struggled to learn to live with it” and Sherlock had accused John of being extremely and maybe involuntarily cruel towards Sherlock. When John had objected to that and said that he had never intended to be that and that Sherlock on the other hand had been extremely cruel by making John see Sherlock jump back then. 

John had accused Sherlock: “Talking about cruelty....how do you think it was to feel utterly useless, unable to do something to save your best friend when he jumped from that blasted roof in front of your bloody eyes!” had John almost shouted.

“I thought we were over that discussion! But lets us just dissect it into pieces again: you were not supposed to watch me jump” had Sherlock shouted back: “you were supposed to be at Baker Street.....with Mrs. Hudson and when you arrived, I tried to tell you! I used the “present tense” and not “past tense”....”It IS all a magic trick!” I said...... I tried.....but I couldn’t reveal more. The sniper was aiming at you. She had followed you from Baker Street to Bart’s. (Of course bloody Sherlock had known about Mary even before John had been told!). I never intended to make you see me jump and hit the pavement! But you were too bloody stupid to understand what I tried to tell you!”

“Well, it is not easy to be at your peak of intelligence when you are watching your best and dearest friend apparently killing himself and then in reality just disappear out of your life for two bloody years, without a word. Don’t tell me that Moriarty had snipers pointed at us for two years!!!!! Just a word Sherlock. You were in contact with Mycroft....just a word!!!!!”

There had been silence for a short while and then Sherlock had said in a very resigned and utterly sad way: “I was unfortunately too busy keeping myself alive. And I wasn’t in contact with Mycroft any more at the time when I could be certain there was no threat against you any more. It took over a year. I didn’t know about Mary then. That she, even if she had been put on you, had “changed horses in the midstream” and instead of being a threat, protected you.

And he had continued: “I made a big mistake...I should never have returned. Just accepted death in the dungeons. I was close. So close. Mycroft came in the nick of time. I was sleep-deprived and feverish because of infected wounds and I had two broken ribs. If that thug had hit me one more time the same place, the ribs might have entered my lungs and the blood seeping into my lungs would have caused lung-collapse and the pain and lack of oxygen would have made me unconscious. In that case I would have dislocated my shoulders not being able to support my weight on my legs any more and the last pain would have sent me into medical shock. He had the pipe in his hand as I realized that Mycroft was present and I made the thug run home.....leaving me in the merciful hands of my brother”

Sherlock had continued: “I should never have returned......And I should never have tried to pick up my old life again. Not to realise that you had moved on and managed fine without me, was a big mistake. My apologies for ruining your dinner with Mary!”


	4. Chapter 4

Sitting in the train on his way back to London John remembered that he had shivered as he had heard Sherlock talking so calmly and clinically about his torture and injuries and he remembered his own answer: “Of course you should have returned. You saved more than 500 people when you prevented the Parliament to be blown to pieces.....and we were people who were glad that you returned!!!”

And Sherlock had just looked at him and said: “I’m sorry John. Were you? It didn’t feel like that then! But what good had it done to me? The same people whose life I saved have now sent me in exile and you did beat me when I showed up in that restaurant. I admit...it wasn’t one of my brightest ideas. You almost broke my nose, gave me two black eyes, reopened my wounds on my back and left me! Then you were cruel enough to ask me to attend to your wedding as your best man. So I really could see what I couldn’t have. I really tried. I did. You deserved to be happy. But it did hurt so much.......Go...leave me! I can’t cope having you in my life any more!!! Not like that!!!Leave me, please!” and Sherlock had turned his back to John in his hospital-bed. 

John had looked at Sherlock’s back and had said: “I’ll leave. When my best friend asks me to leave, I’ll leave! You know where to find me. Mycroft says that I’m not allowed to contact you and he’ll be mad as hell because I’ve visited you here in Berlin. I’ll respect that you do not want to see me, but can you please try to stay alive?!”

And then he had turned around and left, hoping that Sherlock would call him back. When Sherlock didn’t do that, John had taken a taxi to the “Berliner Hauptbahnhof” and had caught an earlier train home to London. And now he was sitting here in the train with a lot of time to think...and his blasted mobile had chosen that time to finally totally malfunction because of a broken battery and the charger had just broken too. Why on Earth did the manufactures make those connectors so tiny and fragile?! Well almost 10 hours to spend on this train and he would be home in London at 11 PM. So much for sitting in a train 10 hours the other way just to talk to Sherlock for half an hour. Damn him! John would try to get some sleep but Sherlock’s words were running on repeat in his head: “You have been cruel to me......had to jump.......wanted to make you happy.....sacrifice.......I should have been dead.......your wedding..........what I couldn’t have...........your choice........your choice.......”

And there in the “twilight zone” between being awake and asleep, where people strangely enough sometimes are very brilliant, John suddenly saw everything Sherlock had ever done and said in another light.....and the interpretation of it all gave another result than “friendship” and that together with Mycroft’s remarks made John realize right there and then that Sherlock had not done all of this because he was John’s friend, but because he loved John. Genuinely loved John! 

And thinking back John realized that Sherlock had tried in his own awkward way to “test the waters” and to find out if John was interested. But Sherlock’s own “I’m married to my work” on their first case and John’s own clinging to the label “not gay” had put a stop to everything before it had ever started. Neither of them being prepared to risk their friendship. And notice.... John had never said “totally heterosexual” either, because he had been with men. Mostly adrenalin-fuelled kissing and mutual wanking in a “thank-god-we-are-still-alive-and-kicking”-feeling” after near-death experiences in Afghanistan. And only at two occasions. Sholto had been one of them and another captain the other.  
John didn’t have an almost eidetic memory like Sherlock but he could never the less recall a lot of their conversations and encounters and adventures together and as he was sitting there in that train with nothing better to do, he did contemplate over every single one of them again and again, but now with the knowledge of Sherlock’s love for John. John realized that he had indeed been cruel to Sherlock and he couldn’t even tell him a “I’m sorry” because of that blasted malfunctioning mobile-telephone. Maybe he would even make things worse if he tried to tell Sherlock. He did not intend to leave Mary or Mina and he wasn’t interested in Sherlock that way. He loved the female body!...The softness...the scent of their sex. Their full breasts!.......

His thoughts were wandering and he was almost asleep and he saw Mary’s body in front of him. Even if he didn’t love her anymore, he still liked her....and her body. He started dreaming that he kissed her and caressed her breasts, feeling the nipples harden under his hands. He heard her moan as he buried his nose between her breasts taking her scent in...Licking his way down her stomach....swirling his tongue in her belly-button......licking her almost totally shaved mount of Venus....spreading her legs further and licking the juices from her vagina and finding her clitoris and hear her moan... 

Oh...he loved that she was hairless....just like him. He had got used to shave his genitals in Afghanistan. The sand-flies could be kept away from the toes by wearing socks and boots but there were other tiny insects that would crawl up a man’s leg..... first to settle down in the pubic hair and then they would dig themselves into the thin skin in the groin, the velvet skin of the penis and most of all in the skin of the scrotum leaving nasty infected wounds.   
The veterans had told the newcomers that they could either adopt the clothing from the locals which would allow lots of air to the mentioned area or at least remove the genital hairs, just like the locals did and then those blasted insects would have no place wherefrom they could begin their attack. When John returned to London from Afghanistan it was just a part of his daily routine to shave his groin and scrotum, just leaving a very trimmed hairiness at the root of his cock and of course Sherlock had deduced that. He had even teased John with his knowledge by his remark: “I prefer my doctor’s clean shaven”....and there in that train John realized that Sherlock had been flirting with him. 

John wondered half asleep if Sherlock was shaved there too and as John continued to stay in that zone between nearly awake and almost asleep, his thoughts about Sherlock got mingled with his visions of a naked Mary......but now it was a very naked Sherlock that John was teasing and licking. His dream continued.....he was kissing Sherlock’s mouth......and then his ridiculous long and delicate neck......down over Sherlock’s almost hairless chest.....letting his tongue swirl over one nipple while pinching the other one. Sherlock moaned and bucked. That deep baritone voice ought to be condemned as illegal and John’s tongue continued its travel over miles of delicate pale Sherlock skin....... towards......

John woke up with a jolt. Where did those very inappropriate thoughts about a naked Sherlock come from? And then he realized that the half-erection he had got dreaming of Mary’s naked body had turned into a very hard and almost painful erection that his trousers barely could contain.....and he had never seen Sherlock totally naked! In a sheet without pants and then almost “no sheet” at Buckingham Palace! Spotting a very delicate outline of a surprisingly muscular and plump arse! And as John had tended to different wounds on Sherlock’s body over the years. Last time as he often came around to keep Sherlock company when he recovered after Mary had shot him. He didn’t even know what Sherlock’s cock looked like! And with that thought John finally....and much too late....... admitted that he loved Sherlock, was interested in more than a platonic friendship with him and that he indeed at least “was gay for Sherlock”.

“I’m so screwed and fucked up and Mycroft was totally right” he said to himself as he continued to remember how many times he had hurt Sherlock with his “I’m not gay” as if it was the worst thing one could ever be! And he couldn’t even ask Sherlock for forgiveness, because of that blasted telephone and because it would just make things worse. John shuddered as he remembered how he had made Sherlock fall on his wounded back, how he had punched him, given him a “Glasgow kiss” and almost broken his nose...as Sherlock showed up in that restaurant “returning from the dead” in 2013....and Sherlock had just let him do it. Had understood how John had had a mixture of anger, rage and pent-up grief. And understood that John had to get it out. And John had once called Sherlock a machine with no understanding of other people’s feelings!

John hand went to his mouth and he had tears in his eyes as he remembered how Sherlock....Sherlock who had sacrificed his career and almost his life to make sure that John was safe......had asked John for forgiveness in that explosive wagon under the parliament-building in November the same year. Sherlock had asked for forgiveness and it should have been John, who had done that. And Sherlock’s first man’s speech had been a love-declaration towards John. 

Sitting in that train John had tears in his eyes and they started run down his cheeks as he remembered how Sherlock in despair had started using drugs again after the marriage and John hadn’t even noticed. And as he had found out he was just angry instead of thinking of and understanding why Sherlock had seen it necessary to use again....his “it is for a case” was to cheap and transparent.

There in that train a tired John finally acknowledged what a possibility he had thrown away and realized how much it must have hurt Sherlock that John this Christmas had chosen murderous Mary, who had almost killed Sherlock, over Sherlock and John realized that that had been Sherlock’s motive behind shooting Magnussen. That Sherlock’s life wasn’t worth living any more and that he just as well could give it up, securing the thing John wanted most of all: a wife and a child. And John understood that Sherlock hadn’t expected to get away from Appledore alive and had ordered John away from him because he had anticipated to be shot right there.

“Oh Sherlock...you told me once that you wasn’t a hero......but you haven’t been anything else!” John’s hand was at his mouth again and he had tears in his eyes again and there was a pain in his chest. That Sherlock had sacrificed his own career and finally nearly his life to make sure that John got what he thought that he wanted.......who was John to be worthy of such a friend? John decided that he would not leave a stone untouched to make sure that Sherlock would be able to return to England free of every accusation. Even if Sherlock would never want to see John again. And John was sure that Mary’s proof of Magnussen’s price on Sherlock’s head would help.

By now John was exhausted and he fell asleep and didn’t wake up until several hours later, now only facing half an hour train-travel before he was back in London.


	5. Chapter 5

As John descended the train in London, he spotted an ominous figure standing on the platform. Not that the person itself was scarring, but his presence was! That he had found out that John was on that train and which time he would arrive in London just showed how much power Mycroft had. But not enough power to safe Sherlock!

John hurried towards Mycroft and asked almost out of breath: “Has something happened to Sherlock?!?”

Mycroft just looked at him and then he said: “I understand that my brother, besides a flesh wound in his thigh, indeed was in a rather healthy state, when you left him?!”

John just looked at Mycroft....no he wouldn’t be so sarcastic if anything had happened to Sherlock, would he? Despite Mycroft’s attempts to convince otherwise John knew that Mycroft really and deeply cared about Sherlock’s well-being and that was why Mycroft had found it more than a bit difficult to accept that John had chosen Mary, especially after she had shot Sherlock.

“I know that I’m the biggest idiot in the world, Mycroft. But I found it difficult to abandon a pregnant woman with a past that could jeopardise her and the baby and the only reason why I stayed by her was that your brother told me that he had forgiven her and that she never had intended to kill him. I now know why he did it......and why he shot Magnussen... and for that I cannot forgive myself. In Berlin he told me to leave him, stay out of his life... and I obeyed......So please tell me: why are you here if it is not about Sherlock?”

Of course Mycroft could follow John’s arguments.....he was “the smart one” after all... and he looked at John...and now John got really worried, because there was pity in Mycroft’s eyes.

John felt it as if someone had a firm grip of his heart: “It is about Sherlock then......something happened?!”

Mycroft just looked again and said: “No....it is not Sherlock..... But there has been a car accident 4 hours ago. We couldn’t get in contact with you....”

“No....my blasted phone died.....”

“Oh......I would have sent a helicopter for you if we had found out where you were a bit sooner. It is only 15 minutes ago we found out that you were on this train....”

“Yeah....I took an earlier train...no seat reservation. Why should I know about that car-accident?”

As Mycroft spoke John had gone more and more worried...and had run through a mental list of people he knew were in a position of a car and where it would be serious enough for Mycroft to turn up at that platform. Thank God he and Mary didn’t have a car...

Mycroft cleared his throat: “I suggest that we sit down on that bench for a second..” and as John had sat down besides Mycroft, Mycroft continued: “It is your wife and your child.....Mary had Mina in a pram as they got hit by a van that drove on the pavement.....”

John took a deep breath and looked at Mycroft....now almost numb......and asked: “How bad is it? No....no....stupid question. It must be very bad since you are here and wanted to use a helicopter. They must be dying or close......”

And Mycroft could see John put on his soldier-personality. Just as he had done when Sherlock died.

John looked at Mycroft: “I’m not going to faint or make a scene. But don’t you think we are in a bit of hurry?!”

“That is why the helicopter is waiting for us in the street outside. I had the street closed off”


	6. Chapter 6

Of course Mycroft had taken care that Mary had been hospitalised in one of the best private hospitals in London as soon as his minions had reported about the accident, since they always kept an eye on Mary. Not to keep her safe, more just to keep an eye on her. Mycroft knew what she was capable of and just wanted to be sure where she was all the time. Mary pretended not to know and actually she found it rather reassuring having somebody to keep an eye on her, at least when she knew about it. 

At the private-hospital John hurried to Mary’s room in the intensive care unit. In the helicopter Mycroft had told that both Mary and Mina had been severely injured. Mina had lost consciousness almost immediately and had never woken up. She had been declared brain-dead by the arrival in the hospital. Mary was supposed to undergo several operations but was now heavily sedated so she wasn’t in pain and was awake and waiting for John. She had insisted on waiting with the last operation until her husband could be present. And the operation could be postponed, but not for long.

Mary looked terrible. Her face was bruised and the rest of her head was bandaged and she was of course hooked up on several life supporting machineries, and as John looked in her journal he found that it was a miracle that she was still alive. She had been on the operation table two times already and was now waiting for the next operation. This one in her head...again.

At least she wasn’t on a respirator as she could breathe on her own and had only a tube with extra oxygen in her nose and as she saw John she began to cry: “I’m sorry....I’m so sorry....” and John sat next to her and began to stroke her right hand. The only part of her that were not hooked up on machinery or IV. He had a short flashback of the several times where he had been sitting in similar situations with Sherlock in a hospital- bed and he realized with a peculiar sadness that he would have been more upset if it had been Sherlock in that bed....... It was so complicated.

He tried to suppress that thought. Mary needed him now:  
“Shhhh...it wasn’t your fault. Just a stupid accident. The wrong place at the wrong time. I was told that it was a young man in that van and he had a heart-attack and died. Just bad luck...”

Mycroft had assured John that there had been nothing suspicious about this accident. Just bad luck...

Mary smiled at him: “I know it is bad. I might never be able to walk properly again. I can probably never have children again.....oh John. I should never have gone on that stroll. Or I should have left our flat sooner....or later, then this wouldn’t have happened.........Mina is DEAD AND I KILLED HER!!” she cried....

“Shhh Mary...it is not your fault......You couldn’t have known. Just a stupid accident.....not your fault”

It seemed as if Mary finally understood and then she whispered, crying: “I told them that they could use Mina as a donor. At least it would give some sense......”

“It’s OK. I would have said the same thing. Now....be a good girl and say to the doctors, who are waiting, that they can continue the operations. I would so much like to have you back in our apartment...or a new place.... as soon as possible..” 

Mary smiled at him: “You have finally forgiven me, then?”

And then John Watson told his first big lie in his entire life: “Of course I have”.....and then he told the second big lie: “I love you, Mary” and smiled at her. He kissed her forehead and she smiled back: “I love you, too, John” and they came to take her to the operation theatre.

Mycroft came and stood by John’s side as she was wheeled away: “It is not because I want to be cruel, John. But you are a doctor.........”

And John looked at Mycroft and said: “That is why I lied to her and said that I loved her. I saw her journal and I recognize the signs. Brain damage.....the cerebellum. If she survives......I really do not know what to do. Stay with her and be miserable I guess.....”

Now Mycroft looked at John and said: “You don’t have to. Mary didn’t think of the consequences when she agreed on Mina being used as a donor...”.....his voice faded.....

John pinched his nose between his eyebrows: “Mina wasn’t mine. I know. I got a suspicion when I saw her hair. Mary’s ex-friend David had red hair, I suppose. But I still loved Mina! It wasn’t her fault!”

John was standing there in the middle of the hospital gang-way and began to cry silently: “I still loved that little miracle; even if she wasn’t mine and even if Mary...or whatever her name was....lied about that too....And I abandoned Sherlock for her. I wonder if she ever spoke the truth.........I’ll have to pay for the biggest mistake in my life now. Sherlock is....rightfully....mad as hell at me by now. But I love him.......And I’ve realized it far, far too late.....”

Mycroft gave John a hug and even if it was a bit awkward his scent was a bit like Sherlock’s....their ridiculous expensive aftershave.....and it felt like....home.

“What made you finally discover your feelings for Sherlock, if I may ask?” said Mycroft as he let John go and they went to a sitting room near the intensive care unit.

John smiled a small joyless smile and answered as they had settled themselves in two of the chairs: “A broken telephone, a long 10 hour-ride on a train, something you and Sherlock had said and done on repeat in my head and a dream....”

“I see...” And then Mycroft said something that did surprise John. Mycroft was looking away as he said: “It can be arranged so Mary never has to bother you again....there are institutions..... if the damage is severe. In reality you were never married to her. The marriage can be declared void, if you should wish so.....”

John looked back at Mycroft: “I don’t know, Mycroft. It feels wrong to abandon her when she is going to need care. But....but the last lie....about Mina. Just too much And Mary swore that Mina was mine....I really do not know if I can ever trust Mary. I think that she genuinely wanted to make a new life. Stop being an assassin. And I think if she really would have harmed me....or Sherlock for that case.....she had had lots of opportunities....”

Mycroft looked at John again: “I’ll not conceal this for you John, not this time. But people close to me are working against me. They have...if I may use one of your expressions...”a firm grip around my balls”. It is like a hostile take-over and I fear what they might do to Great Britain if they succeed. Sherlock unfortunately gave them ammunition against me as he shot Magnussen. I couldn’t do anything....or at least not much....to prevent him from either going to prison or sent in exile to investigate even more in this case. People wanted my brother either dead or away from England or made unable to work.....”

John interrupted: “I had a suspicion that Moriarty’s return had something to do with “the uncrowned king of CCTV”...you!”

Mycroft actually smiled: “James Moriarty was very helpful if all charges against him were withdrawn! But back to Mary. I have never trusted her....and I’m afraid that she had been hired by those persons threatening me...and Great Britain’s stability. To remove Sherlock either by killing him or get him out of the way, when they are going to launch their plan....it would suit them well!”

John looked shocked at Mycroft: “Are you telling me that Mary with one hand promised me to find the proof that Magnussen hired her, and that proof should help Sherlock and she, with the other hand, tried to harm him?!?”

“Yes I’m afraid so. But she is clever...so very subtle...very! Oh my God, John. I just came to think of.......did she give you anything that you should give to Sherlock?!”

“Yes....but I forgot to give him her gift!”

“Where is it?”

“In my bag.....do you really think that.....?”

“Sherlock is in a hospital....wounded. Who would get suspicious if he caught a lethal infection?!”

And Mycroft called some experts and they very carefully removed the wrapped parcel from John’s bag.

John was pale.....:”If it is somehow is contaminated.....she could just as well have killed me too!”


	7. Chapter 7

Only half an hour later John and Mycroft were told that the book had been contaminated with spores from penicillin-resistant streptococci.   
As John got that message Mycroft saw the soldier, the killer.... that John was as well. He rose and said: “Where is the operating theatre? If necessary I’ll kill her myself!”

“No need for that John...it is just a word....if nature and bad luck not already have done the job!”

And therefore John only felt an immense relief as the doctors showed up only 15 minutes after to tell that Mary had passed out on the operating table. The damage to her cerebellum had grown worse over time as the swelling began. There had been nothing they could do...

And John just thanked them for trying....no reason to tell them how relieved he was.

He was asked if he wanted to see Mina one last time....and remembering how bloody Mary had been, he asked: “Is she.....I mean....presentable?”

And they had done a nice job even if they had removed organs from her tiny body. Her death would at least save 5 other severely ill babies. She hadn’t died right away, but the damage to her brain had been so severe that practically only the most basic life-functions had been working. She had indeed been brain dead as she arrived at the hospital.

Mycroft suddenly remembered that John was a catholic even if he didn’t “practice” so often. The church had not provided John comfort as Sherlock “died”, but John still believed in God even if John wasn’t quite sure that God would approve of his love in Sherlock. Right now there was a comfort in praying and well- known rituals and John had asked for a few moments for himself together with his dead “daughter”. Mycroft was waiting outside the morgue’s small mortuary in the meantime. One of the staff had found a bible and a rosary at John’s request. He had a bible and a rosary in his bag, but it had been taken away because of the contamination- danger. And frankly....John didn’t care if he ever saw the contents of that bag again. His “dead” mobile-phone was in his pocket....with Sherlock’s number....and that was the most important thing.

John wasn’t kneeling but his head was bowed as he stood by that little baby-girl. Her face was strangely enough nearly unharmed. He stroked her tiny forehead as he tried to speak to the God that at two occasions apparently had listened to him: “I know that one cannot bargain with you......and that I’ve had my fare share of miracles. You let me live after I was shot and as I pleaded for my life and you brought Sherlock back even if I didn’t appreciate it when he returned. I would only ask of you...please take good care of this little soul. She didn’t deserve to die so early and even if she wasn’t mine, she was somehow anyway........And if it is OK... I have one more wish....please spare Sherlock. He has done so much already. Spare his life...please.....please.....”

And now John was crying as he took the Bible and read out loud in English, even if he could it by heart in Latin too: “The Lord is my shepherd; I shall not want. He maketh me to lie down in green pastures: he leadeth me beside the still waters. He restoreth my soul: he leadeth me in the paths of righteousness for his name's sake.... “ And then he couldn’t say a word any more, the pain in his chest was unbearable and he suddenly felt a presence beside him. Mycroft had come into the chapel and stood beside him: “This is no time to be alone, John!”

And Mycroft took the bible from his hands and continued: “Yea, though I walk through the valley of the shadow of death, I will fear no evil: for thou art with me; thy rod and thy staff they comfort me.........Thou preparest a table before me in the presence of mine enemies: thou anointest my head with oil; my cup runneth over. Surely goodness and mercy shall follow me all the days of my life: and I will dwell in the house of the Lord forever. Amen”

And then Mycroft continued: ”And.....and if you want it ....there is a place at my parents estate....an initiated burial place......a place for her too, if you so wish!” 

John looked baffled at Mycroft: “A burial place in your parent’s backyard?!”

Mycroft smiled: “Oh John...my parents do not live at the estate. It is much too big and even if they are rich they can’t afford and do not wish to have a staff of more than 70 people to take care of such a big house. It is a hotel now and they have just rented it from my parents who are very satisfied by living in the red house which was a part of the estate’s “houses for the staff” in the ancient times. I think it belonged to the marksman.”

John just looked at Mycroft: “Are you telling me that you are aristocrats.........”Lords” and “Ladies”?!

Mycroft looked a bit embarrassed: “Well....actually....we are...but have chosen not to use the titles.....It would have jeopardised my mother’s career and it is she who is the “Holmes”...not my father. The “fine” part of my family didn’t want to have anything to do with my great-grandfather as he married beneath his station when he married a French non-aristocratic girl. And my mother continued that line by marrying my father. But as the “fine” part died out my mother turned out to be the sole heir. I do not possess a place in the House of Lords and I have no intention of doing so. Not for the time being. It doesn’t indicate that I do not have the proof that I would indeed be entitled to do so......but it would mean that Sherlock would have to take his seat there too....and in that case......”

John shuddered: “Do not even mention it!!! And thank you Mycroft.....I thought that “sentiment” wasn’t your area....and yet you are here....comforting me....instead of ruling England!”

“Well John.....I have been a young man and have made too hasty remarks. Caring is not always a disadvantage. Even a Holmes can be wrong, you know!”

“Nonsense....you have never been young, Mycroft. I’ve always imagined you being born in a three piece suit and with an umbrella!”

“That would have been very uncomfortable for my mother, John!”

And that small spark of improper humour considering the place and the circumstances actually helped John to cope.


	8. Chapter 8

John told Mycroft that he didn’t care what happened to Mary...or whatever her name was. The last betrayal...well actually the last three betrayals: as she had told her lie about Mina and had tried to contaminate Sherlock....and John..... , made John wonder if she had ever spoken the truth about anything at all. Most of all he was angry at her because she had thought that John would never have found out: “She must have thought that I was a total imbecile!”.....and he was angry at himself because he had proven himself to be just as stupid and naive as she had thought he was.

Mycroft wisely didn’t say a word when John had made his remark about his own intelligence.   
_______________________  
John found it impossible to stay in his (and Mary’s) flat. He had gone there....been driven there in Mycroft’s car which had been waiting outside when John had fetched a few necessities late that night after he had been to the mortuary to say goodbye to Mina. John wouldn’t get his bag back before it had been cleared of contamination. He had just concentrated on his own things in the bedroom and the bathroom and somehow managed not to see Mina’s things. And he had found Mary’s proof of Magnussen’s price on Sherlock’s head..... printed out and on a USB-pen. Both items lying on the desk besides John’s laptop in the living-room. John gave up understanding how Mary on one hand would have revealed the proof that could help Sherlock and on the other hand had tried to kill Sherlock with that contaminated book.  
As he got back in the car where Mycroft was waiting, Mycroft had asked if John wanted Mycroft to arrange for the flat to be emptied, Mary’s belongings given away or destroyed and Mina’s belongings......given to children in need? Maybe to some charity organisation? John had agreed and had asked Mycroft if it was all right that the education-fund for Mina would be used likewise?

So over the next days some of Mycroft’s minions emptied John’s and Mary’s flat. Packed the belongings, which they might think that John would keep, in boxes and had them and some furniture stored. John’s clothes were packed in two suitcases and brought to Mycroft’s house and Mina’s belongings given to a children’s home in London. Mycroft had even arranged for the flat to be sold.  
_____________________  
John found himself in Mycroft’s house in a very comfortable guest-room half an hour later that night, now almost so late that it could have been called early, and surprisingly he slept rather well only disturbed by a single dream from Afghanistan....and that was not even one of the worst ones. And he stayed at Mycroft’s house nearly all the time the next month and a half except from a short trip to Scotland. Mycroft had offered John the possibility to go back and stay in Baker Street and John had lifted his eyebrow and asked why Sherlock had kept the flat if he never intended to return to London? Mycroft had just said that he would never have given up hope as long as Sherlock was still breathing and suddenly John understood: “That wound...that wasn’t an accident. Was it?”

And Mycroft had just said that if it would have to come to that he would make sure that Sherlock didn’t have to go to Bulgaria or other potential dangerous places in Eastern Europe as long as Mycroft had loyal agents who could hit a coin on a very long distance....or a leg if necessary.... and as long as Mycroft could be in dire need of Sherlock’s abilities to see through every smoke-screen!

Two days after Mary’s and Mina’s death, Mina was buried at the Estate’s burial place. Greg, Molly, Mrs. Hudson and Harry were there together with Mycroft and his and Sherlock’s parents and Mycroft saw again John’s soldier-personality slip into place. It was John’s way of coping. And as they left the estate and headed for London again, John told Mycroft that “he was working on something that might help Sherlock. If just Mycroft could keep Sherlock out of harm’s way a little longer. Maybe shoot him in the other leg?”  
______________________________  
The thing John was working on had been fuelled by two things. The dream about Afghanistan and the fact that Mycroft had admitted......sitting in the library in his house sharing a really good whisky with John...that “his hands were tied behind his back” and he was unable to do much for Sherlock. As Mycroft had made that remark John began to giggle......maybe helped a little by the amount of whisky John had consumed to catch up some “Dutch courage” to tell Sherlock about his feelings and Mycroft had just lifted his eyebrow in a very “Sherlockian” manner. 

“I’m sorry” had John giggled: “but I never knew that you were into that sort of thing, Mycroft!”

“What?”

“Bondage and S/M sex!”

“I beg your pardon!?”

And John giggled even more: “You said it yourself, Mycroft. “A firm grip around my balls” and now “my hands tied behind my back”......pain and bondage! I didn’t know that Anthea would do that kind of thing!!!”

Now Mycroft really looked perplexed: “Anthea?!”

“Your wife.......or maybe her right name “Andrea”....and I even flirted with her the first time we met”

There was silence for a few seconds. And finally Mycroft spoke, not insulting John by pretending that it wasn’t the truth, but now nearly sober. The adrenaline surging to the surface by John’s “accusations” had sobered Mycroft up.

“When did you discover that we were married...and her true name?”

“Well...the ring on your finger...even if you wear it on the right hand by European tradition and not on your left hand as by English tradition......Andrea does the same thing. Even if her ring....with a small diamond....could be interpreted as just a piece of jewellery. But the very discreet patterns engraved in both rings are the same, thus making them a pair. The way you two interact and the fact that I’ve have sensed the scent of her perfume in this house and on you.....well and actually that you didn’t refuse that it was the fact....right now! And her true name....well if you didn’t want me to find out, you shouldn’t leave some of her books in the guest-room: “Dedicated to Andrea Holmes from.....”....well it sort of gave it away, didn’t it?!? But you are not living together?”

Mycroft smiled as he took another sip of his whisky: “No....right now it would be too risky and I admit that the books did give it away. But who would have thought that you would actually find the only three books of hers amongst all the other books?”

“Well..they sort of stuck out. Three highly recommended biographies from famous politicians amongst books in the fiction-genre or poetry. They were almost “screaming”!

Mycroft smiled: “Not for everyone, John. Not for everyone!”

John smiled back: “And you did it on purpose!!!!”

“I did. I’ve done it for 8 years..... since we got married. But you are the first of all my guests that have noticed!”

“And I suppose it would be too risky if too many found out?”

“Exactly!”


	9. Chapter 9

The next morning John fetched a suitcase at his sister’s flat. Or more correctly described: he was driven to his sisters flat by one of Mycroft’s chauffeurs. John wanted a suitcase he had deposited by her before he went to Afghanistan and this was the suitcase where she had put his remains from his time in Afghanistan when he was brought home after he had been shot, too. Those remains had been in a plastic bag and someone had given it to her when it wasn’t certain that John would survive. Nothing important or valuable...just photos, clothing, books and small items/souvenirs from John’s time abroad.

But John had dreamt of the last day in Afghanistan the other night and he had suddenly remembered something....something important.

He looked through the contents of that old suitcase: first a very old and very genuine kilt. No sporran or anything else. Just the kilt. A heritage from an old uncle in Scotland....and John being a Watson was actually entitled to wear the kilt. But as he had inherited as a 10 year old boy he had never tried it on. Well...maybe another day. Thank god no clothes moth had been there. Maybe caused by the heavy scent of camphor that still clung to the woollen cloth. John carefully tucked it away in the white cloth that had been wrapped around the kilt to protect the pleats and the fabric.

And John looked at some of the photos from Afghanistan....friends, companions.....some still alive and some dead. But he had only kept contact with a few. And photos of a younger John Watson...capable and confident....in his uniform: some where he was in full combat equipment and some where he only was wearing a vest, fatigues, boots and dog-tags. Especially one photo caught John’s eye....A rather big one. He had been standing against a wall, the sun had been shining and he had been looking at something else and not into the camera. Smiling. Bare muscular chest. How he had been fit in those days! Hair blonde....and no trace of gray. Nearly no wrinkles or bags under the eyes. So young. Tanned...so tanned that his teeth almost seemed to glow. John touched his portrait’s left shoulder. No star-shaped scar there......John sighed at put it away. It was not always wise to look back in time! And it was only 7 years ago!

And finally he found what he was looking for. A visiting card: “Lord H.V. Armitage” it said and a phone number and then something scribbled with a pen...one word..... “platinum”. John had used it as a bookmark and had forgotten all about it......maybe it was because he had been shot only 4 hours after he had left that card in his book. The seriousness of the injury and the violent infection afterwards had somehow erased a lot of his memories of that day....except from the moments just before and after he had been shot. But now he remembered almost everything again:

_Afghanistan, Fahra, 15th September 2009. It had been quiet for a while. Thank god it wasn’t Helmand. The locals were friendly and there had only seldom been road-side-bombs. Maybe that was why some new recruits from England were supposed to be in this camp. Just “test the waters” before going somewhere dangerous. John wasn’t very interested in the rumours about some of these young men...that they were not ordinary recruits, but young men from the aristocracy that were supposed to “see what Afghanistan was like” but without being in real danger as they were supposed to go back to England a take their places in the house of Lords or whatever young aristocrats were supposed to do when they grew up._

_John had been busy operating on two appendixes and a broken arm that needed a bit more than a plaster cast. Being educated as a GP and a surgeon John Watson could not be a “real” army doctor with the rank of major, but his skills were very appreciated in the camp, maybe even more than if he had been the “real thing”. To all the men and the officers in the camp he was “an army doctor” and he had proven his ability to perform first aid and save a lot of lives and even perform life-saving surgery out in the field......so they frankly didn’t care about the formalities. To them he was “Captain John H. Watson AND Doctor John H.Watson” no matter what people behind desks would say about that matter! And besides...he was an excellent captain and sharpshooter as well and these combined abilities of his had saved more than one man!  
John hadn’t been assigned to be on that patrol with the young newcomers, but as Cap. Sorensen again got ill with that blasted appendix of his, that he still insisted on was only painful bowl-movements......John had been told to make himself ready in half an hour even if he right now was off duty._

_So here he was, sitting in the first jeep, alert and with his weapon in hand...Even if it was a relatively peaceful region, they were still at war....and even if he wasn’t the highest ranking officer in the group, their safety was still his responsibility._

_As he got into the car just before they drove out of the camp he had noticed some of the young recruits. Oh yes ...definitely aristocrats...._

John was sitting at the bed in one of Mycroft’s guest-rooms remembering the whole event. It had come back to him in details after his dream the other night. He had noticed the young men then, but it was first much later that Sherlock had put words to what John had seen then....no....”observed”.

Sherlock’s remarks had been made as they had been in the mortuary, investigating another case. Before “The Fall”. A young drug addict had been found dead and everybody had been sure that he had just been one of those middle-class or working-class kids that had taken the wrong path......with all the obstacles that prejudice would provide him: single mother, poor education in overcrowded public schools, abusive “uncles” etc. etc. But Sherlock had just cast a glance at him and had said: “This lad, behind all those piercings and tattoos and the filthy clothes....he had had a lot of opportunities.....Go search for his parents amongst the old aristocracy!!!”

And he had indeed been a “Lord Abington”. John had asked Sherlock how he had known and Sherlock had just looked at John and said: “Look at his bone-structure. It is similar to mine even if I’m not the higher aristocracy” (But in fact Sherlock had been aristocracy as Mycroft recently had admitted). “A bit odd features....It possesses some in-breed quality of sorts. Just as if his ancestors had close family re-unions amongst the young members that didn’t stop in time. At least they did know in the old times...even if they didn’t know about genes...that “some fresh blood” would be needed from time to time.....a maid or a stable-boy.....to avoid too many eccentric “uncle Archie”s or “aunt Maddie”s. But never the less....look at my appearance John. I’ll never pass for a peasant or a mine-worker. I’m too “delicate”....Descended from generations of individuals that didn’t have to worry about wherefrom they should get the next meal...and I do not mean it as a quality! It is a limitation to my ability to pass as another person.....and it is annoying!”

John had looked at Sherlock and asked: “And I can pass as anything?! “

And Sherlock had smiled at him: “ No John....not because of your looks, but because of your military training. It is so obvious. Remember......I recognized you as a military person the second I observed you. You can’t hide that!”

John had thought a bit more about Sherlock’s words and found it strange that Sherlock could not see how beautiful he was and John just wondered if Sherlock never noticed how people turned around to look at Sherlock when he passed by. Both men and women. And Sherlock called his own handsome features “some in-breed quality”...strange...

And yet....despite Sherlock’s words....his disguise as “Shezza”....”the addict” had been convincing. But only because it maybe wasn’t a total disguise. “Shezza” had been “using” as Molly’s tests had shown. John still felt very guilty about this......that Sherlock had been so miserable that he had been tempted. Well... he had claimed for a long time that “it was for a case” and the fact that Jeannie had been at Baker Street and apparently had not missed Sherlock for long maybe supported that.....but the tests had shown otherwise! And at least Sherlock had been right about something...That his “inbreed quality”-looks would still shine through......Even sweaty and crumbled and disguised in saggy clothes....he had still been good looking! “Handsome” even!

 ___________________________  
__ Back in Mycroft’s guest room John sighed...he would have to make that phone call to Sherlock soon, but not before he had found a way out for him.

_John had looked at the young aristocrats and wondered if they were up to anything if something went wrong. In ancient time.....World War1 and before..... they would have been officers automatically.....and not necessary god ones. Now it was at least required that officers had a military education and being an aristocrat didn’t really count any more as the sole qualification. _______________________

_They were in 4 vehicles. John was in the first together with a lieutenant from his own group and two of the officers that were following those young recruits. most certainly armchair-officers! The next Jeep contained 2 of the recruits and two lieutenants from John’s group and the two last vehicles 2 recruits each, two more armchair-officers and Captain Jennings...one of John’s nearest friends. The sun was shining but not too hot. The sky blue with feather clouds and they were heading “home” towards the camp after an one hour trip around in the region, as hell broke loose and shrapnel’s and bullets starting hitting vehicles and people. John and Jennings started barking orders and tried to save the young inexperienced recruits and the just as inexperienced officers at the same time. And trying to locate those who were aiming at them....where they were and how they could be stopped. Of course they had called for immediately help from the camp, but it would take a while before they could arrive. John swiftly evaluated the situation: one of the young recruits from the car immediately behind his was beyond help but the other one....the blonde young man....had been hit on his forehead.....and bled so his face was totally covered in blood. Not too bad.....he was conscious and the wound might only be superficial as he seemed to be OK. What was worse was that he had been hit in the groin. One centimetre to the one or the other side...and the damage would have been nearly of no importance. But he had been hit directly in the artery.....almost causing him to bleed out there in the dust of the road. An open wound there...and the body would face a fatal blood loss in less than 15 heartbeats._

_John tried to cover the young man’s body with his own and pressed his fingers into the wound, looking around for something he could make a pressure-bandage with. The young man’s trousers were almost crimson because of all the blood. John ordered him to press his own hand against the wound and found a stone he could make a pressure-bandage with. At the same time he and Jenkins shouted to each other to evaluate the situation and as John saw a movement out of the corner of his eye, he grappled his rifle and killed the enemy who was crawling up upon them. Jenkins had hit one too and maybe that had been enough to discourage their attackers......When the help from the camp finally arrived the gun-fire had stopped and both the living and thankfully only one dead were hurried to the camp._

_John had received a bullet in his thigh...but only as a very superficial wound.....but his uniform was ruined and soaked in blood from the dead recruit and the blonde young man.....and as soon as they were in the camp John hurried to his quarters to change into a new uniform. As he wanted to have a look at the young blonde recruit he wore a white lab coat over his fatigues and his T-shirt as he was in the hospital-barrack to re-fill his first-aid bag and the first-aid supplies in the pockets in his body armour after he had had a glance at the young man. He was coping fine. His face was still rather bloody......the immediately care of his wounds was more important than personal hygiene._

_One of the armchair-officers came as John was in the supply-room._

_“I’ll like to thank you, doctor” he said.....and actually John didn’t feel up to correct the misconception...He knew that he would be out on patrol to find their attackers in less than 2 hours and he just wanted to rest in his room until then. No time to explain that he wasn’t a real army doctor.....but a captain.._

_He smiled at the officer: “I’m just doing my job!”_

_The officer smiled and gave John a visiting card: “You will find that that young man, whose life you saved, has a family that will prove itself very grateful indeed. Here is my card. Call that number any time if you will ever need a favour and you’ll be surprised how grateful they will prove themselves to be! There would be more attached to this card......but right now I’m in a bit of a hurry because we are leaving this camp in a very short time. Our young men will be transferred to another more secure and safe base and then send back to England. This trip here has proven itself to be a very bad idea!”_

_“Well” had John said: “it is a country at war!!” and the two men had saluted each other and major Armitage had left._

_In his room a few minutes later John had begun to read in one of his medical books, but he grew tired and decided to take a small nap and had used the card as a bookmark. And two hours later he was on patrol and 4 hours later it was he who were lying under the hot Afghani sun and pleaded: “Please God...let me live”......._


	10. Chapter 10

John looked at the visiting card and thought of what the major might have intended to do further. He never got the chance though. The helicopter in which he had been, had been shot down as they were close to their “safe” destination. John had heard about it just before he left for his last patrol in Afghanistan and he had first realized that Harry actually had had his belongings from Afghanistan when he married Mary and moved to a bigger flat than the one in Baker Street and Harry had mentioned something about “his old rubbish easily could find a place there instead of taking up space in her flat”.

John picked up his new phone....one that Mycroft had given him as soon as they got to Mycroft’s house in the middle of the night after the accident and after John had returned to London from Berlin.  
_____________________  
“I suppose it is tracked somehow....and would function even without battery” had John said as he a bit reluctantly had accepted the phone offered to him. Of course one of the newest and best models.

“Of course” had Mycroft said: “it would have been nice if you had had such a telephone on you. You would have been in London several hours before, if you had possessed one of “mine” telephones!”

John had just looked at Mycroft and had said: “Why don’t go all the way and implant a tracker in my body too?....Oh....No.....for God’s sake....forget that I’ve even mentioned it!!!”

But Mycroft had just looked at John and had said: “How do you even think that I found Sherlock in time in those dungeons in Serbia? I wouldn’t have been there in time to save him if he hadn’t been “tracked”. It could be seen that he wasn’t moving much and the pattern of his movement was suspicious......If we had not have such a tracker on him we wouldn’t have had time enough to prepare for his rescue...even if I did manage to learn Serbian in about 4 hours. Sherlock is one of my best agents......and he is a real agent, John....and all my agents are tracked!”  
_________________________  
So...John picked up the phone and dialled the number:

A voice: “Yes?”

“Hmm.....I once got this card....from an officer. And he said that I could call this number any time, if I needed a favour.....” John’s voice faded.....maybe it was just one big mistake...

“Hold on a minute, sir. I’ll need a bit more information: when did you receive this card and from whom....and normally there would be more than a card...a coin...a medal. Didn’t you receive such a thing?”

John sighed and said: “Maybe we should just forget it?.....I received it in 2009. In September....in the province Fahra in Afghanistan. Major Armitage gave it to me...and I do not think that he had time to finish....he died only a few hours after he gave this card to me. He did write a word down on the card though. The word “platinum” if it makes any sense. Maybe we should just forget the whole thing, eh?”

“Oh my God....please do not hang up, sir. Stay on the line!” the young man almost stuttered.....and then John could hear the young man shout out in the room: “My God. It is him....I’ve got him on the phone right now. The man we’ve been looking for for more than 6 years!!!!!”

And then he returned: “Your name, sir? And your occupation and address? Do you realize that we have been looking for you the last 6 years?!”

John felt a bit puzzled but answered: “My name is John Hamish Watson. I was a captain in the Fifth Northumberland Fusiliers, at that time stationed in Afghanistan and now I’m a doctor at a clinic in London, but on leave right now. And right now I’m a guest of Mr. Mycroft Holmes......” and John mentioned Mycroft’s town house address.

Then there was silence and the young man asked: “You were not an army doctor?!”

“No.....I was a GP before I entered the army. They do not need GP’s, but they needed a god soldier. I was first and foremost a captain and then mostly of all a “paramedic”. I wouldn’t have been allowed out in the battlefield had I been a real army doctor...they are much too valuable!” 

John was smiling even if the young man couldn’t see it. John knew his own worth...and being a doctor and a captain didn’t diminish his value anyway...on the contrary!

And now John heard the young man stutter again: “Oh my God......”doctor John Watson”........and “Mycroft Holmes”....how incredibly stupid of me. Of course.... you are the John Watson from the blog....the detective working with Sherlock Holmes. Wait a minute. I’ll get my superior...”

And finally John could tell what had happened that day in September 6 years ago. It turned out that the young man whose life he had saved had been Prince William! That the Royal family had been looking for John ever since...but major Armitage never got to tell enough about the doctor who had saved young William’s life and the phone call home to England from the helicopter that fell down only minutes after, had only revealed “army doctor”...”I gave him my card”....”saved Prince William life”.....”risking his own”....”didn’t even get his name”...And Prince William could only remember fragments and kept on talking about the “golden soldier-angel that had saved him”.

John had been told to write down his wish on a sheet of paper.....a courier-car would fetch it within two hours and could it and he be ready then?

Actually John felt a bit dizzy by now....it was just as if everything was spiralling out of control and he barely managed to tell some of Mycroft’s staff that he would have to leave in a short while and he didn’t know when he would be back and he of course would remember his phone.

He hurried to sit down at his computer and write his request. He remembered to mention the price Magnussen had had on Sherlock’s head, how Sherlock .....and John.... had risked their own lives trying to dismantle the armoured train wagon under the Parliament-building the 5th of November 2013. How Sherlock several times had solved mysteries that saved a lot of people’s lives and removed threats against national security. And finally he pleaded for a Royal Pardon for Sherlock.

Right on the promised time a black car....not one of Mycroft’s!......turned up in front of Mycroft’s town house and a very discreetly dressed man got out of the car.

“Dr. Watson” he said and nodded and continued: “I’m Mr. Hobson. I hope that you are ready for a trip to Scotland?”

John only managed to stutter: “Trip....Scotland?!” and finally he found his voice: “No....I only thought that I would be going somewhere here in London?”

“How long do you need to pack a few necessities, sir?”

“Sir”?!......well. It depends....where am I going?”

Now the man smiled at John’s confusion: “I suppose they forgot to tell you...in their confusion. After all...they have been looking for you the last 6 years!”

John now actually laughed: “They should have hired Sherlock Holmes!”

The man smiled back: “They should!.....You are going to Balmoral....and will be back here in London tomorrow!”

John looked at him and did not say anything for a few seconds: “Balmoral....as in the Queen’s summer residence?!”

“Exactly....very informal. Her security-service would throw a wobbly if they were going to find out that you.......an un-cleared person would be allowed so close to the Queen, but...”

“Yeah....I think that no one would regard me as a security risk since I’ve already saved Prince William once”

“Exactly!”

“But....but I do not know what suitably clothing would be.....formal dress or what?!”

Now the man was smiling warmly again: “Well.....anything more than a sheet would be appropriate I think!”

John blushed as he thought of Sherlock in only a sheet at Buckingham palace so many years ago: “Oh my God.....she knew?”

“She did...and she said that she only regretted two things. That she wasn’t there and that Sherlock Holmes managed to catch the sheet. He should be a very fine specimen of a dashing fellow, I’ve heard”

John blushed a bit: “He is...”

He hurried to grab a few necessities and was ready to drive away in the black car within 15 minutes.


	11. Chapter 11

In the helicopter on the way to Balmoral he wanted to hear more about how he was supposed to behave. And Mr Hobson just told him to treat her Majesty as he would treat a senior officer. It would be appropriate enough.

At Balmoral John was shown into one of the living rooms and there in a sofa was Queen Elizabeth II sitting dressed in a tartan skirt and a matching blouse and cardigan. John came to a halt as he realized that it was the Watson tartan she was wearing.

He almost forgot his manners as he said: “You are wearing my family Tartan, Ma’am? I’m sorry...Your Majesty?”

She smiled at him: “”Ma’am” would do....I am speaking to the man who not only has saved my grandson but me too. And I found it appropriate to show you some respect by acknowledge your connection to Scotland, Dr. Watson....have a seat and a nice cup of tea!”

John slumped down on the sofa and had taken the first sip of tea....and then he stopped again and looked at the Queen: “Do my senses betray me, Your Majesty, or is this “Tieguanyin”…the finest tea in the world?!” He put down the fine china with a trembling hand.

She smiled at him and said: “Damn....I owe Mycroft a box of that tea now. He said you would recognize it. I better give you one too....just to tease him!”

And with that remark the ice was broken and John didn’t feel like he was walking on broken glass any more.

The queen had been very angry as she found out that someone had “thrown a spanner into the works” and had forced Mycroft to send Sherlock on a suicidal mission. She found that what Sherlock had done on the 5th of November 2013 left alone should have pardoned him and the rest just emphasized how important he was for the national security.  
“I was in the parliament-building that day....and so were the rest of those, to put it nicely, not-so-brave politicians who should have guts enough to pardon a man who actually just had defended himself.....”

The afternoon vanished quickly and John was a bit surprised as the Queen with a somewhat teasing look in her eyes asked if he wanted to see some “nice parts of Scotland” before a rather informal evening meal?

John had said yes and had got a ride of a lifetime with the Queen behind the wheel in a four-by-four vehicle as she very skilfully drove the car around on the very small and narrow country roads surrounding Balmoral.

She was actually grinning as she parked the car and turned the key: “You are a very brave man, Dr. Watson!”

“Why?.......if I may ask, Ma’am. You are an excellent driver!”

“Because I sometimes have scared the......brown stuff.......out of people when I take them on a ride!”

“Were you testing me, Your Majesty?”

And that old white-haired lady smiled with a spark in her eye: “Yes....and it is not very nice of me. You could call it a test before I consider a reward. I have sometimes driven a small tour round the county-side with male friends from the Arabic countries, where they think that women only belong behind burkas and bars, just to show off a bit!”

Now John was actually laughing out loud: Your Majesty are...if I may be so blunt....one hell of a lady!”

She smiled back: “And you, Dr. John Watson are a very remarkably man!”

After the evening meal Prince William turned up and John gave him a small box he had fetched from his suitcase before he left Mycroft’s house.

Prince William had looked at it and John had said: “It is just a souvenir.....a memorabilia from Afghanistan!”

And William had opened the box and looked at John: “Is it...?”

John smiled back: “Yes...the shrapnel that almost killed your highness. I had put it in my pocket and when they collected my belongings after I was shot, I found it again the other day....I had forgot almost everything about that day after I got wounded, but it came back to me later....I thought that it would be worth remembering...the day where you got your life back!”

William smiled back at the soldier and doctor who had risked his own life....covering William’s body with his own as bullets were buzzing around them. Never thinking of his own safety and said: “If our country just had a few more men like you, Dr. Watson!”

And as if was the key-word an adjutant entered with a thick envelope. John looked at the Queen and she nodded.

John opened it...and looked baffled as he found out that it wasn’t the Royal Pardon for Sherlock but actually a....knighthood for “Sir John Hamish Watson”. He lowered the certificate and said: “It is not because I want to be disrespectful Your Majesty. But I would rather trade this...this knighthood....for a Royal pardon for Sherlock!”

The Queen touched his hand: “This knighthood....and a nice annual sum.... has been waiting for you the last 6 years, Dr John Watson. And there has been one waiting for Sherlock Holmes since 2013 and even before that.....he had always refused, but maybe you can persuade him. The Royal Pardon for Sherlock is on its way....the usual bureaucracy will just delay it a bit...and I have an announcement to make in the parliament before it will be completed. But believe me Dr. John Watson. I’ll personally take each one of these politicians on a personal ride in my car here, until they accept it!”

John returned to London the next day...carrying two boxes of the finest tea in the world. And an envelope that showed that he was to be “Sir John H. Watson”


	12. Chapter 12

In Berlin late the next evening Sherlock was sitting in his hospital room and was looking at his phone. Mycroft had told Sherlock what had happened more than 7 days ago, but had not mentioned with a word that John had been in Scotland. 

But back in London John hadn’t dared to contact Sherlock yet and had not written anything to Sherlock. And even if Mycroft knew now about John’s feelings for Sherlock, John had asked Mycroft to keep silent. John would tell Sherlock himself. And therefore Sherlock didn’t know that John had come to terms with his feelings for Sherlock...almost. And besides...John had decided that he would not give Sherlock false hopes and therefore John would wait until he knew for certain that his plan had worked.

Sherlock was going to be sent “home” to his flat in Berlin within a few days. Then supposedly back to “work” in 2 months or so.....Eastern Europe. Another mission......and maybe or maybe not he could return to his flat in Berlin again after that. For now he had at least 2 months to live..... And now......it had all been in vain as Mycroft had been so nice to point out. Sherlock found that Mycroft really had a sadistic side sometimes.

Sherlock looked at his phone for a long time before he typed the words. He wasn’t even sure that John would even answer after their last conversation more than a week ago. And therefore he hadn’t dared to contact John. Mycroft had said that Sherlock ought to.

Sherlock sighed and put himself together and wrote, not even sure that John would want to read anything from him:  
*HOW ARE YOU? I’VE JUST HEARD ABOUT MARY AND MINA. MY CONDOLENCES OFFERED*

*I’M IN A TERRIBLY STATE. NOT BECAUSE OF “MARY”, BUT BECAUSE OF MINA..... WE HAVE JUST BURIED HER....AND THANK YOU*

*I’M SORRY I COULDN'T BE THERE. I’VE HEARD ABOUT MARY. IT WAS A STUPID QUESTION TO ASK HOW YOU ARE. FORGIVE ME!*

*FORGIVEN. COME BACK TO LONDON, SHERLOCK, I MISS YOU!*

*I’M STILL NOT ALLOWED! AND WE HAVE HAD THIS CONVERSATION BEFORE. WHY SHOULD I RETURN TO LONDON? THERE IS NOTHING FOR ME THERE ANYMORE! AND THE GOVERNMENT WOULD NOT PARDON ME. MAYBE RIGHTFULLY SO*

*NOT EVEN I CAN PERSUADE YOU TO RETURN?*

*AGAIN I ASK WHY SHOULD I RETURN AND HAVE YOU FOUND A WAY THAT EVEN MYCROFT HAVEN'T FOUND?*

*YOU KNOW THAT SOMETHING NEW HAD TURNED UP. DIDN’T MYCROFT TELL YOU?*

*TELL ME WHAT?!? HE DIDN’T TELL ME ANYTHING EXCEPT THAT MY SACRIFICES HAD BEEN IN VAIN SINCE MARY IS DEAD!*

*BLASTED THAT WE CAN’T JUST PHONE! THAT THERE IS A PARDON ON ITS WAY. MAGNUSSEN HAD A PRICE ON YOUR HEAD. YOUR DOINGS ARE BEING RE-EVALUATED AS AN ACT OF SELF-DEFENCE EVEN IF MAGNUSSEN WASN’T ARMED. AND I’M NOT SURE HOW MYCROFT SAID THAT ABOUT SACRIFICES TO YOU. I SUPPOSE YOU HANG UP ON HIM BEFORE HE FINISHED. MAGNUSSEN WAS TO BE PUT AWAY...SENTENCED....THEY JUST NEEDED A LITTLE BIT MORE ON HIM AND HIS THREATHS AGAINST YOU AND THE ATTEMPTED MURDER ON ME IN THE BONFIRE HAD BEEN ENOUGH. IF YOU JUST HAD WAITED 5 MORE DAYS, SHERLOCK. THAT WAS WHAT MYCROFT MEANT.....AND HE DIDN’T EVEN KNOW ABOUT THE PARDON EITHER.. HE DOESN’T KNOW EVERYTHING, YOU KNOW! JUST YOU STAY OUT OF HARMS WAY AND YOU CAN BE BACK IN LESS THAN A MONTH....*

*A PARDON?*

*I’M WORKING ON SOMETHING. PEOPLE OWE ME FAVOURS!*

*OH...I SEE. IMPRESSING IF YOU CAN WORK SOMETHING OUT THAT MY BROTHER CAN’T. BUT I STILL CANT’ SEE ANY REASON TO RETURN!*

*I WANT YOU HERE! I NEED YOU!* 

*I’M NOT GOING TO BE A SUBSTITUTE, JOHN!*

*MARY WAS THE SUBSTITUTE!*

*I STILL DON’T HAVE ENOUGH REASON TO RETURN. YOU WOULD NOT WISH TO BE A PART OF MY LIFE!*

*I DO! DO YOU WANT ME TO SAY IT ON THE PHONE?*

*SAY WHAT?*

There was a long pause. Sherlock just looked at the screen. It was it then. He put his phone down on the side table and turned away, turning his back to the table. He was being silly. Heterosexual John Watson would never admit his love for Sherlock. Never! And then after almost 5 minutes the phone gave a ping and the screen lit and Sherlock rushed to the phone as fast as he could and read:

*THAT I LOVE YOU! THAT I’VE FINALLY LEFT THE CLOSET. DO YOU WANT ME TO SHOUT IT FROM THE ROOFTOPS OF LONDON? I’LL DO SO. DO YOU WANT ME TO HIRE AN AEROPLANE AND HAVE A BANNER AFTER IT THAT SAYS: “JOHN WATSON LOVES SHERLOCK HOLMES” OR MAYBE EVEN BETTER “JOHN WATSON IS THE BIGGEST IDIOT IN THE WORLD”. I’LL DO SO. BUT PLEASE FORGIVE ME THE PAIN I’VE CAUSED YOU AND COME BACK TO LONDON......OR ALLOW ME TO COME TO BERLIN. I LOVE YOU. PLEASE. AND STAY OUT OF HARMS WAY!*

*THE FIRST 4 WORDS IN YOUR MESSAGE WOULD HAVE BEEN ENOUGH, JOHN. I LOVE YOU, TOO! AND I’M COMING HOME. AS SOON AS I’M ALLOWED*


	13. Chapter 13

Seven days after John had visited Balmoral and had been able to tell Mycroft that a royal pardon was on its way, Mycroft turned up in Baker Street with two bottles of that ridiculously fine whisky that he previously had shared with John. John had said “good-bye and thank you for your hospitality” to Mycroft and Andrea only two days before. He had decided to move back into the flat in Baker Street and Sherlock had been delighted and had said so as they wrote together on the phones. It was still too much of a security risk just to phone. 

John hadn’t expected the flat to be that altered though.....he never thought that he had seen it that clean and tidied up. Every book was on the shelves. No clutter in the corners. The kitchen with no traces of experiments.....

Well the furniture was the same....but that was all. Actually it looked like a museum, an exhibition or a set from a film. And John suddenly realised that Sherlock...even if he had kept the flat, actually never had expected to return. It wasn’t a place for a living man to return to....it was a memorial over a friendship and a dead man. And John had got an even bigger shock as he entered the stairs and saw his own old room. He hadn’t been there since....well actually not since he had tended to Sherlock’s wound after he had been discharged from the hospital the second time. They had only seen each other a few times in the months before Sherlock had asked John...and Mary..... to come to his parents for Christmas. John had stayed at Harry’s as he tried to find out what to do about Mary and had only occasionally been at Baker Street....and never up the stairs to his old bedroom.  
Sherlock had turned it in to “John’s room”.....a place dedicated to John Watson. A lot of pictures from the blog...and from their cases on the walls. Screen-dumps from John’s blog had been magnified and put on the walls too.....and pictures of John from the time in Afghanistan....where ever Sherlock had found them.

John had tears in his eyes as he understood how utterly lonely Sherlock must have felt. He wrote to Sherlock and asked if he was allowed to alter the room? Now that he was there himself in person?

Sherlock had been a bit embarrassed......somehow he had managed to delete what he had turned that room into but gave John free hands.....And John......with the help of Mycroft....turned that room into a science-lab for Sherlock. The handy-men were paid overtime and managed to finish it in only 3 days.

And now Mycroft was here with the whisky and they sat down in the chairs....John in his own well known and well used chair and Mycroft in Sherlock’s Corbusier. As they had enjoyed the first two glasses in relatively silence just talking about whiskey and whisky and the subtler differences, Mycroft slid down on his knees and reached for John’s left foot.

“What are you doing?” asked John and had a flash back to a similar situation with Sherlock, just reversed, on John’s stag night.

“Don’t you remember that I promised that if you managed to get Sherlock a royal pardon I would kiss your feet?” asked Mycroft.

John laughed and said: “I do not want you to kiss my feet, Mycroft! Get up!”

And Mycroft rose with almost the same elegance as Sherlock had and sat down in Sherlock’s chair. “I sincerely hope that you would not ask me to kiss another part of your anatomy, John!”

“What?”

“Well you usually use the phrase: “Kiss my arse!”......and if you insist, which you are entitled to as I promised that you could ask me anything, I would prefer if you were very clean!”

There was silent for a short while and John began to giggle: “Are you offering to “rim” me, Mycroft?”

“I told you that you, within reasonable limits, could ask me anything. As this would not compromise national security....the answer would be “yes”. I made a vow.....a promise. If that could show you how thankful I am, then I’ll do it!”

John pinched his nose: “You two brothers.....When you do something you do nothing by halves, do you?...No I’m not going to ask you to “kiss my arse”, Mycroft. But I’m surprised that you know the expression.....”

Mycroft smiled back and took another sip of his whisky: “And you knew it too!!”

“Oh....do stop deducing, Mycroft. You are on the wrong track here......I’ve done it once.....with a girl......and it wasn’t unpleasant. But we had taken care that we were “very clean” as you put it. And that is all the information you’ll get about that!! Back to your promise: I have something else in my mind......what you should do to keep your promise..”

“May I ask what it is?”

John looked at Mycroft and then he said as if of topic: “The way you live is almost as unhealthy as the way Sherlock lives. Not enough sleep, too much stress and strange eating habits. Don’t you ever feel hunger?”

“I do...but only after the first 20 hours or so. I’m sometimes often too busy to remember to eat”

“And in that case...what do you eat?”

“Almost everything...but I prefer something sweet”

John looked worried: “And by making your own blood sugar level into something like a roller-coaster, you are heading towards a diabetes. Haven’t your doctor told you so?”

Mycroft smiled: “He does....but I do not listen!”

“And Andrea?”

“If she is around...and she often is.... Then she’ll take care that I eat something a bit more healthy...and then I have cakes smuggled in afterwards. Even if I think...no.... I know....that she knows!”

John laughed: “Sometimes I think that you Holmes brothers, despite your big brains, never developed beyond the stage of a 6-year old boy!”

And then he continued: “Your fulfilment of your promise is that you’ll allow me to try to make you healthier!”

Now Mycroft had an expression of real fear on his face: “You are not going to put me under a “regime” like my mother did, please. It was horrifying.....took too much of my time....and I starved!”

John laughed hard, with tears in his eyes: “Oh my God, Mycroft. You sound exactly like Sherlock....Tell me about your mother’s “regime”, please, so I can avoid scaring the hell out of you!”

Mycroft shuddered: “I’m not scarred...I just regret my promise to you. I didn’t know you were a sadist! Very well. You have heard how Sherlock had teased me with my weight.....and in my first year at the university he witnessed how I gained more than 15 kg...Add that to a young man who wasn’t as slim as I am now!”

John looked at Mycroft and tried to imagine him 15 kg fatter. Or even more.....

Mycroft looked back: “It wasn’t pretty! Some people can gain weight and it’ll distribute itself almost evenly. But unfortunately I have not inherited my father’s athletic build like Sherlock has, but more the “apple”-shaped figure of my grandfather. So almost nearly every single of those 15 kg was situated on my stomach. My tailor had done an excellent job and was able to partly conceal my growing waist measurement, but as I hadn’t been home for Christmas that year because of examinations, my family hadn’t seen me for more than 8 months. It was then I began to wear the 3-piece suit as it concealed my growing waist. Of course both 14 year old Sherlock and my mother spotted it immediately and my mother put me on a diet. It was horrifying and humiliating.....and both she and Sherlock were guarding me as a hawk would guard a prey. But you do not say “no” to my mother!! She is too scaring if you try so. Who do you think taught Sherlock and I to be so sarcastic and biting? My diet consisted of lots of meat and vegetables. Enormous amounts of vegetables. And exercises....running, sit-ups. I hated it! It took hours of valuable time. It was humiliating!!! But unfortunately it worked.....” 

Mycroft sighed and looked at John: “And now you are going to do the same?”

John laughed: “No...I know how busy you are. But my exercises only last about 10 minutes every day. I suppose you can find time for that most days. And if you can’t, you’ll just go back to the exercises two days before and start again.” And he handed Mycroft a folder.

Mycroft looked at John: “I can do that.....most of the time, I think. 10 minutes?”

John smiled: “10 minutes....it is my own program. One that the army had developed. It is amazing how much it can do in a very short time. But it is every day!! If you pause more than a week you’ll have to start all over again. There are 10 levels and 30 exercises. I suppose you start at level 1!”

“Well. I’m actually more fit than you’ll expect.... I have been an agent in the field...even if I hated it. And that is it?”

“Not quite.....your eating habits...They need adjustments!”

“Oh my God, You have spoken with Andrea!”

“I have....and we have found a solution. There are supplements, drinkable. If you are too busy to eat, then drink some of those. And they’ll remove your hunger for cake...”

Mycroft rose to his feet: “I made a promise...and for a short while I thought, I would regret it. But as always you have turned out to be a real considerate friend. But this “gift” is not for you, but for me....so you can still ask me anything... I really must be leaving. I have a world to rule!”

“Thank you....And I appreciate it..” said John and gave Mycroft a firm handshake: “Both about the asking and the world....”


	14. Chapter 14

John and Mycroft met one more time before the Royal Pardon was launched. This time Mycroft invited to dinner at his house. Andrea would be present too. John had laughed at bit as Mycroft had told that Andrea didn’t officially live there and had asked if there was secret passages between her official apartment in the other street close by and Mycroft’s bedroom and Mycroft had just smiled and said “something like that, yes”.

The dinner was exquisite and the wines too. The company was pleasant and Andrea wasn’t clicking away on her blackberry all the time as she usually did when John had seen her. They had discussed theatre plays and concerts and John and Andrea did join each other at the battle lines against Mycroft when he claimed that “Queen” and “Beatles” could not be regarded as sort of classical music.

Later John and Mycroft sat in the library. Now sharing a very good cognac.

“I begin to understand why you said the other day that England is in reality not ruled by the government” said John.

“Hmm. Explain, please” said Mycroft.

“Well. I’ve met our Queen...and she is quite a lady. You do not say “no” to her....not because she is the queen but because she is what I would call a “tough lady”. You must know about her “driving lessons”?!”

“Oh I do....I’ve experienced one once!”

“I suppose you were brave enough not to need clean underwear afterwards?!”

“I suppose you didn’t either!”

The two men smiled at each other.

“And then Mrs. Hudson”....continued John: “Sherlock once said that England would fall if she wasn’t at Baker Street. I think that she is even better than your mother to make Sherlock behave?”

“She is!” confirmed Mycroft.

“And then your mother.....I could almost get the suspicion that it is she who rules the MI6, if I didn’t know better. She can make you and Sherlock dance by her tune sometimes!!!”

Mycroft shuddered and said: “She is not the MI6....her sister is!!!”

John almost chocked on his cognac: “What?!?”

Mycroft smiled: “Her sister...my aunt Marjorie. My mother is her senior by 2 years and had no intention of becoming the leader of such an organisation. She was busy enough with her professorship in math. But Marjorie...she is good at it. She recruited me when I was 22 and thank God she quickly admitted that I was much better behind a desk than out in the field. But I was trained.....intensively. That is why I say that I’m more fit than I look. She recruited Sherlock when he was 22 too. It was after Victor and the drug abuse...”

“Victor?!”

“I’ll tell you about that later....Sherlock was trained intensively too and I do not know if you had found out before... when you were living together.....But Sherlock is a part time real agent. One of the best that M16 has and he is incredible strong and persevering. I read what his captures in Ukraine, in Russia and in Serbia wrote about him in their files.....and a lesser man would have died. Remember John....even weakened and sleep deprived he was after having used drugs after your marriage, he took me by surprise and pinned me against the wall and almost broke my arm......and even you with your combat training....I’m not sure that you could have done that to me!”

“I’ve moved Sherlock around before!”

“Only because he has allowed it.....believe me. He is incredible strong...has always been. As a child doctors even wanted to investigate why he was that strong. It is not to be seen on him.....when he has lost weight he is almost lean.....meagre.....but it is all muscles!”

And John had to admit....he had always found it a bit peculiar that Sherlock could be that strong without having to exercise a lot.

John thought about Mycroft’s remark about the government in England and then he said, partly inspired by a rather large amount of excellent cognac as he giggled: “This country is apparently ruled by elderly women: the queen, your aunt, your mother and Mrs. Hudson.....We could be worse off.....” and then both he and Mycroft giggled.

And then John remembered a name: “You said “after Victor””?

Mycroft looked at John, now almost sober again: “Something from Sherlock’s past and I’m sorry... I haven’t been fair against you. Judging you as if you were somebody else. Let me explain:.....Sherlock began at the university at a very young age...only 17. And in the 3rd term he met Victor. They were house-mates. You look at bit like him, except that he was taller and of course younger. They became close friends. I think Victor was fascinated with Sherlock because Sherlock was smart! Sherlock would sometimes disappear for several weeks....working on his own projects and then just return and catch up in the topics as if he had only been gone a few hours. Sherlock would even sometimes correct the teachers......And when I found out about you and Sherlock....I sort of confused you with Victor. I doubted your motives for being with Sherlock. I kept on doubting your motives. Even when you shot that cabbie. Even if you saved Sherlock’s life at several occasions....And then....Moriarty....Sherlock had to jump. You seemed to mourn him deeply and there I realized that I had got you wrong. Sherlock returned but you had moved on...cooped and had found Mary. And there I started doubting you again!”

And Mycroft continued: “Please let me continue, John. You had not enough information to make the right decision, and that was partly my fault. I didn’t tell you what I had found out...or what I thought I had found out about “Mary”. When you married her, I knew something was not right about her....and I should have told you.....Instead I blamed you for choosing her and not Sherlock. I blamed you for choosing her.....And in reality you didn’t choose Mary, but the glossy picture she had made herself into. Later you chose her for the noblest reasons.....not to abandon a woman, who was expecting your child. I can’t really blame you for that. And yet I did.....I did blame you for choosing her after she had partly revealed who she was and what she was capable of. And you only did that after a lot of contemplation and almost a direct order from my brother. I confused your high moral standard and consciousness with Victor’s rejection....and that was not fair against you. You still wanted to stay as Sherlock’s friend and I suppose that you......if possible....would have stayed as his friend despite his feelings for you, had he revealed them before.”

John looked at Mycroft: “But I would have hated to disappoint him and would have hated to say that I didn’t reciprocate his feelings.....because I hadn’t acknowledged them then....”

“But you wouldn’t have called him “a pervert”....”a freak”....”a monstrosity” if he had revealed that he had deeper feelings for you... You wouldn’t have hit him hard and kicked him if he had tried to kiss you.....”

John sighed.....the cognac making it easier to tell about his feelings: “If Sherlock had told me that he was in love with me and had tried to kiss me. I would probably have found out about my own feelings for him earlier.   
But let us just play “what if”.....if I hadn’t loved your brother and really wanted a romantic and sexual relationship with him in the future....if I had been totally heterosexual and in no way interested in men or in Sherlock for that matter.....I would still have considered him as my best friend and would have done everything I could have done not to hurt him.....not that I haven’t done that involuntarily by being so stupid and blind......but I would never have used such ugly words to describe him. I’m not homophobic.....I wouldn’t be that with that sister of mine! And I most certainly wouldn’t have beaten him!....... But I suppose that was what Victor did to Sherlock?”

“He did.....and so much more. He started rumours about Sherlock at the university so Sherlock found it increasing difficult to stay there. He had been so much together with Victor and his friends.....had done so much for Victor...stayed up several nights to help him....abandoned his own topics and tests to help Victor...done everything he could to help and was rejected that badly. Victor had no reason to show so much hatred afterwards...but he burned all Sherlock’s belongings about a week after Sherlock’s confession: Sherlock’s violin, his books, his clothes....they had shared rooms and Victor prevented Sherlock from getting his belongings back. Sherlock had stayed by another friend but when he heard what Victor had done, Sherlock left the university that night in his only set of clothes....He had borrowed clothes from others, but he had left them...and his wallet and phone. So he left without money or anything and Gregory Lestrade was the police-man who found Sherlock in an abandoned house together with other addicts. Sherlock was nearly 19 at that time. Thank God my brother had had sense enough not to share needles and had sold his watch and necklace to get money...and had made money the way a pretty young boy can make money in London.....He had been gone for more than two months before we found him.....”

John was shocked: “You mean that.....Victor actually stole Sherlock’s belongings.....and then didn’t care a fuck what happened to him?!”

Mycroft smiled at John. “Typically you....you are not repelled by the fact that Sherlock was a rent boy?”

“No....as long as he didn’t catch anything.......I’m just a bit puzzled....why did you then assume that sex would alarm Sherlock?”

“Because he had not engaged himself in a relationship of any kind afterwards.......and he would go for almost several months without...hmm....sexual release....”

John now actually laughed: “You mean....without wanking!”

Mycroft smiled: “If you want to put it that way...yes. In my eyes Sherlock got so scared of rejection that he chose to be abstinent and as far as I know he had continued being that......”

“Well I’m glad he is not a virgin.....and thank you for telling me. It explains a lot. I’m glad that I finally got to tell Sherlock how I feel, but I would so much more like to tell him face to face. I now understand better his anxiety for rejection.....Does he know that you were going to tell me that part from his past...the rent boy past?....Because I knew about the drugs. What happened to Victor? I certainly hope that he didn’t get away with that kind of behaviour?” 

“He found it impossible to stay in England and moved to USA...at another university.....and unfortunately died in a car-crash two years later...”

“Mycroft! You didn’t....did you?!”

“No....even if I was tempted. Sherlock was told about his death by some friends, but reacted as if he didn’t care. At that time Sherlock was at Cambridge as he found it impossible to continue at Oxford. And our aunt asked him to work for her at his 3rd year there. As Victor died, Sherlock was actually in the States, but in California and not in Idaho. That was the time where he met Mrs. Hudson”

“And took care that her husband was put to jail?”

“Sherlock was working as an agent and was under-cover and pretended to be a much younger exchange student from England as he lived by the Hudson’s. One night he defended Mrs. Hudson as her husband did beat her and got beaten instead. Sherlock wasn’t investigating Franck, whom everybody just assumed was a “small fish” in the drug-syndicate that Sherlock was investigating. He decided to revenge his beating by digging up more about Franck Hudson and found so much: murders, ordered killings and so on that Franck ended up in jail and the electric chair. Franck had not been a “small fish” but the top-predator.....the leader of the whole syndicate.....and he would apparently have gotten away with it had he not taken his anger out on Sherlock!”

“Hmm....Quite a detective back then too. Does he know that you would tell me about Victor?”

Mycroft looked at John: “Yes...he wanted you to know”

John looked back at Mycroft: “And somehow expected me to be....what? ....Put off? Oh my God, Mycroft. When I haven’t been put off by a head in the fridge, fingers in the jam...and in the freezer, being drugged and loose a Wednesday, being drugged in Baskerville and the rest of his sometimes nearly insane behaviour.....why on Earth would I be put off by the fact that he was so deeply hurt that he broke down? And I realize now that he was testing me back then....But I passed....didn’t I?”

“You did” smiled Mycroft.


	15. Chapter 15

Later that evening John sent a message to Sherlock:

*MYCROFT TOLD ME ABOUT VICTOR. IF HE WASN’T DEAD, I WOULD KILL HIM FOR HURTING YOU THAT MUCH!*

*YOU ARE NOT SCARED BY THE FACT THAT I HAVE BEEN A RENT BOY? YOU ARE NOT JEALOUS?*

*NO....I DO NOT CARE. YOU DIDN’T CATCH SOMETHING AND I SUPPOSE THAT MYCROFT SAW TO THAT YOU WERE TESTED FROM HEAD TO TOE AFTERWARDS. WHO AM I TO BE JEALOUS OF PREVIOUS PARTNERS? I THINK I LOST THAT RIGHT MANY YEARS AGO!*

*HM....”3 CONTINENTS-WATSON” WASN’T REFERRING TO HOW MANY CONTINENTS YOU HAD LIVED ON!?*

*YOU GIT..YOU KNOW PERFECTLY WELL WHY I GOT THAT NICKNAME. I’VE NEVER HID THAT PART OF MY PAST. AND I’M GLAD THAT YOU ARE NOT A VIRGIN!*

*WELL..... SOME BODILY OPENINGS ARE!*

*WELL...SOME OF MINE ARE TOO!*

*NOW I’M BLUSHING....AND I’VE GOT A BONER. THAT WAS NOT NICE!*

*SAME TO YOU! I MISS YOU. TAKE CARE! I LOVE YOU!*

*I LOVE YOU TOO!*  
_________________________________  
The Royal Pardon came late on the 11th of August, a few days earlier than expected, and Sherlock bought a ticket to a plane as soon as possible. He would have to make a shift in Hamburg, but Mycroft told him that he would be fetched by a private plane there, and fly the rest of the way to London to the very airstrip where he had said goodbye to John in January.

And the 12th of August – precisely 8 months after Sherlock had said what he thought to be his final farewell to John and had left England and anticipated that he would have been dead for two months at this date in August - if not before – John was standing at the same airstrip on the tarmac and watching as the plane landed. He smiled as he saw Sherlock descending the stairs and then Sherlock sat his feet on British ground after having left for Eastern Europe the 28th of February, nearly 6 months ago. 

Thank God that he had been wounded on his first mission, well actually on purpose, and had been hospitalized when John tried to work out how to get Sherlock back to England as Mycroft had been caught in a corner and been unable to help Sherlock much. Sherlock was still limping and now it was his turn to use a cane.

As soon as Sherlock was standing solid on his two feet, John rushed to him, grappled Sherlock’s darks curls, dragged Sherlock’s head down and kissed him forcefully. The first second Sherlock hesitated and then he started kissing back with a hunger that even surprised himself. His cane hit the tarmac as he grappled John’s head and kissed him back, bruising their lips and clicking their teeth and fighting with their tongues as if they both simultaneously tried to suck the lives out of each other. They both moaned....

Mycroft stood and watched for a while and then he cleared his throat: “Hmmm.....may I suggest that you place further...hmmm....activities to Baker Street? It is actually raining and it is getting dark!”

John did let go of Sherlock and smiled at Mycroft: “You are just jealous!”

And Sherlock just looked at John and said: “Hey...that should have been my remark!”

Mycroft rolled his eyes and sighed: “Oh my god....now two of them teasing me!” but he said it with a smile. He had grown to have so much more respect for John that he had had ever before. John back in Baker Street was the best thing that could happen to Sherlock ever. 

And to Mycroft....he wouldn’t have to face the untimely death of his baby brother because he himself had been helpless. And after a few days of “honeymoon” for John and Sherlock....at some time they would be tired of shagging each other into the mattress...hopefully within a few days.......Mycroft would really have to make those cameras work again!... and then they could concentrate on finding out who had outmanoeuvred Mycroft and do something to restore the rightful balance again: Mycroft in the lead! And of course that unstoppable old lady that had turned out to be a surprisingly BAMF too! Who would have known that Queen Elisabeth II at her age could put her foot down in such a way! The Queen had just turned 90!  
_____________________________   
Mrs. Hudson had made a meal for them and left it in the kitchen with a note: “I’m at my sisters for the next two days, so you can have a bit privacy. Try to be not too loud, though. The neighbours are in. I’m so glad you are both back in the right place!”

And so were Sherlock and John....The right place: 221B Baker Street, London, England...and together again. Nothing could be better. Even if Sherlock still performed experiments in the kitchen, played violin in the night and refused to sleep and eat while they were working on a case. But there were changes: they now shared Sherlock’s bedroom and bed and after less than a year there were nice matching platinum rings on their ring-fingers and a marriage-certificate in the drawer.

Sherlock no longer left body-parts in the fridge nor in the freezer and cuddling behind John’s shorter frame in the night finally prevented nightmares for both of them.

Yes....indeed “back in the right place” even if it had been a long and tedious journey to get there.


End file.
